Courtly Love
by gythia
Summary: Aragorn is an inexperienced youth, Arwen is nearly 3,000 years old, and Elrond is determined to spoil her fun.


Courtly Love

Disclaimer: This is a fanfic, characters aren't mine.

She took his hand again, leading him away from the dew-spattered gardens. Not that he minded, but this was the third place she had pulled him to in less than an hour. Arwen had already tried a sheltered porch off an antechamber on the chilly east side of the main house, and the walk in pantry of the bakehouse. Each time, she had looked around, sighed contentedly, and stepped close—only to glance back over her shoulder, or over his shoulder, and lead him somewhere else.

She quickened her steps until they were almost running, leading Aragorn off the path and into the woods. Arwen made for a bramble, bent low and pulled him into a rabbit run. He shuffled through it and stood up again in a small clearing in the trees. Arwen's breath was heavy from her run, and her hair was flowing free about her shoulders. Aragorn paused to appreciate the sight.

"Finally alone," Arwen said. Her deep blue eyes were alight.

Aragorn reached forward and gently pulled a leaf out of her hair. He quoted from the Lay of Luthien, "Shadowy hair and arms like silver…"

She smiled a little, lovely smile. Then she looked over his shoulder and frowned. "You might as well come out," she said, addressing the forest behind Aragorn. "I know you're there. Again."

Without a rustle, another elf stepped out of the trees. Aragorn suppressed a surge of envy at the elves' natural ability to melt through the forest in silence. He was accounted an accomplished woodsman among the Rangers, but even he could not match an elf's inborn grace. Aragorn was surprised to see the other elf was Lord Elrond.

Arwen sighed, "Ada, I was trying to find a little privacy."

"I know. That's why I followed you."

She shook her head. "In order to interrupt at an inopportune moment, no doubt."

"Before any inopportune moment," said Elrond. "That is the point."

Aragorn looked down, and said quietly, "You don't trust me with your daughter."

"I do not question your honor, Aragorn, but Arwen's taste."

"Of course. I understand, you would rather she had chosen an elf."

"That too, but that's not why I followed you. Shall I not protect innocence?"

"Arwen's innocence is safe with me."

Arwen giggled and put her fingers to her mouth. "I think he means yours, Aragorn. Have you forgotten how old I am?"

Aragorn's expression of raised eyebrows and wide eyes made Arwen giggle again. "Oh dear, now look. Just what sort of creature did you think you were courting, darling Aragorn? You do realize my kind don't age like yours, yes?"

Aragorn cleared his throat. "Of course I know that," he said softly. "But I have heard of no other suitor who has ever asked for your hand."

She laughed again. "I suppose I should have expected that. Aragorn, sweetling, I do so love the way you are always speaking poetry and making courtly gestures, but I am no blushing maiden of song." Arwen turned to her father. "And now I think we had really better have some privacy—to talk. There are things that need saying."

Elrond looked at two of them, pausing. Then he said, "As you wish, Arwen. I go. Just remember, he is supposed to be away tomorrow on a scouting expedition. If he needs a healer by morning I will not be pleased."

"Why would I need a healer?" asked Aragorn softly.

"Oh dear—a LOT to teach you," said Arwen.

"That lesson can wait," said Elrond firmly. "Unless I miss my guess entirely, I believe Aragorn is yet a virgin."

Her eyes widened. "How old are you?!"

"Twenty six," he said quietly.

"Yes," she said, "We met when you were twenty, and you have but lately returned to Imladris. You have been a Ranger for six years then. And in all that time, has no one explained to you about the Freedom of the Road?"

Then Aragorn blushed, and feared Arwen would laugh, but she did not. "I know what it is, Arwen," he said. And added, so softly that only an elf could hear him, "I try to ignore it when I see it."

"Then it is true what they say," she said, "that Rangers lie with each other in camp."

"Not this Ranger. I have no love but you, though I must wait long. If our wedding day be fifty years hence, or a hundred, or never, still I will wait."

"Saving yourself for marriage!" Arwen intoned wonderingly. "Your mind is truly full of too many old songs, my beloved. You are content to wait, but I am not. The days of your life pass through my hands like a running stream. I would catch and hold and drink while I may." Then she turned. "Are you still here, father?"

Elrond crossed his arms. "I see well that you two do have a need for private speech. Speech only. I have seen the condition in which you have left some of your dalliances, and I will not leave you two here in this trysting spot. Why not go to the bridge? It is a lovely setting. Full of the movement of water, so that none may overhear. And quite visible from the main house. I will not follow you there. I promise to leave you two alone whenever I see you on the bridge. Will that do?"

Arwen sighed. "The victory is yours, this round. Come, Aragorn, the bridge awaits us."

"Wait—what dalliances?"

"We may discuss many things on the bridge." Once again she took his hand and pulled him after her. She did not say another word until they stood on the stone bridge over the river, with the rushing water beneath them sending up a noise of white foam. Then she kissed him, and drew back only enough to see his eyes. "Yes, Aragorn, I have had other lovers. What would you? A wife who wishes to be with her husband only once every five hundred years or so? Nay, do not answer, I speak shallowly. The truth is that I desire you in a way that is foreign to me. Ada spoke truly when he called my other lovers dalliances. They were no more to me than a new harpsong in the evening. You are the love of my life. But I am vastly older than you, and I am so frustrated that I feel ready to take you at swordpoint. Mayhap you can endure this waiting fifty years, but I cannot! You are still in the first flower of youth, Aragorn, but it will not last. The autumn will come soon enough, the leaves fly away on the wind." Tears started in her oceanic eyes.

"Weep not, Arwen. Our time will come." He brushed away her tears and kissed her deeply. Then there was no more speech. The river flowed under the bridge, unnoticed.


End file.
